Waters' 'The Wall': Don't beat your head against it

If you are or ever were a fan of Pink Floyd and its synthetic, grandiose power harmonies, you would not be disappointed with Roger Waters' 30th-anniversary theatrical rendering of the band's classic 1980 double-album "The Wall."

Just try not to think about it too much.

There's a studied irony in that observation, for an immense amount of thought has gone into this production and into making it more than an aging hippie's trip down Psychedelic Memory Lane. Waters clearly wants this performance to be relevant to a contemporary audience, and he wants the show to be thoughtful.

Yet, in the end - despite two hours of precise sensory assault and often-stirring rock riffs and anthems - "The Wall" remains a carefully ambiguous muddle of anti-establishment politics, anti-consumerist sociology and Waters' own disillusionment with rock stardom and the impersonal milieu of the arena rock concert. Yes, the same milieu that he has - twice now, counting the original 1980 version - turned into such a splendid spectacle.

Unquestionably, the program - including two more performances at the United Center Thursday and Friday - features some powerful music, powerfully done. Opening Monday night with a captivating pyrotechnic display for "In the Flesh?" the show quickly showed a tender side with "The Thin Ice," as images were cast on the growing white wall of Waters' father, who died in World War II, American soldiers in Iraq, civilians in Iran and scores of people of all races and nationalities sent in by fans to Waters' website.

In "Mother," Waters elicited a resounding "No!" from a fist-shaking crowd when he crooned the line, "Mother should I trust the government?" - a scene that, oddly, wouldn't have been out of place at a tea party political rally - and by the time the wall under construction throughout the show had completely obscured the band at the intermission, the audience had been delighted by a chorus of city schoolchildren wagging their fists at a 30-foot tall puppet schoolmaster while lip-syncing, "Hey, teacher, leave those kids alone!", an endless string of Orwellian slogans, images of Shell Oil and Mercedes-Benz icons falling like bombs from airplanes and the dreamy ballads of "Don't Leave Me Now" and "Goodbye Cruel World."

The second act resumed on a fiery note, with the crisp, angry guitar solo of "Hey You" coming from behind the wall that now filled the length of the United Center stage, and steadily wound through a curious scene of mindless self-absorption with Waters watching television alone during "Nobody Home" and another round of soldier imagery in "Bring the Boys Back Home" to culminate in an astounding version of "Comfortably Numb" that emphasized the degree to which Waters succeeded in building a sense of intimacy in the cavernous United Center. By this time, "The Wall" has pretty much run the course of its musical ideas, so much of the rest of the show was devoted to recycling the alternatingly beautiful and frightful Gerald Scarfe animations that were a centerpiece of the piece's 1982 film version. Again, the crowd was treated to a new round of anti-commercial scenes with alternating images of political icons like George Bush and Barack Obama and Josef Stalin and Mao Tse-Dung trailing earbuds as the words iProfit, iResist, iLose and so on fade onto the screen - perhaps giving another reminder of why this all seems just a tad iPhony.

Waters brought the crowd to its feet for one final round of anthemic passion with chants of "Tear down that wall!" echoing throughout the arena as, indeed, the wall was knocked down from behind. Then, he and his band concluded with a sweetly acoustic "Outside The Wall," assuring the audience that it is here where "the ones who really love you walk up and down."

Waters' 30th anniversary production of "The Wall" is, in short, something more than a recycled rendition of a classic rock opera. It remains a grand display of guitar power and the alluring signature vocal harmonies of Pink Floyd. But seeing Waters on stage at age 67 - still cutting a rather natty figure, it must be said - resurrecting quasi-autobiographical sketches that are three-decades old with a jumble of ambiguous new political and social themes - you can't help wondering just what it is he wanted to leave you with. Eventually, you come to realize that it's best just not to think about it.